Forgotten Sins
by mikasa-senpai
Summary: "Aoko smiles at him so genuinely it hurts. The only kind of tender smile that Aoko can produce out of thin air. Kaito doesn't know how to respond. Her. It's really her. Knowing how broken she was, knowing that it was him that stole her happy-go-lucky personality and shattered it upon repair. But there she was." Where Aoko, with no memory of her leaving Kaito, ends up in front him.
1. It's Her

_This is my first story that's not a one-shot. This is going to be interesting. Let's see where it takes us. I might delete it if it doesn't turn out the way I want it to. *deep breath* Wish me luck! _

Aoko smiles at him so genuinely it hurts. The only kind of tender smile that Aoko can produce out of thin air. Kaito doesn't know how to respond. It's her. It's really her. Knowing how broken she was, knowing that it was him that stole her happy-go-lucky personality and shattered it upon repair. But there she was. Standing there. Smiling and laughing and all. It was Aoko. It hurts him a little. He should be overwhelmed with happiness by seeing her delicate, fragile figure. And he is a little happy. But there's still contradicting emotions lingering among her presence. Wistful. Longing. Depressed. He suddenly becomes aware of the loneliness that he had resided in after the last time he spoke to Aoko. He's even a little angry at himself. The faint happy feeling he has, has no chance of peeking out to fill him up with the warmth that she can produce with her smiles.

She loves him, she tells him. She says so. She says she does in that pure, innocent aura that belongs all to her. It's Aoko. Telling Kaito. "I love you." He repeats those three words over and over in his head. He's heard these words come from her mouth before. Aoko smiles at him. It hurts.

Kaito smiles wistfully. It's obvious she doesn't remember. Aoko honestly can't recall the screaming and the yelling she had screamed and yelled on the day she left. All her crying and sobbing has been forgotten. How is it possible for Aoko to not remember her yearlong depression that had taken a toll on her body? She's skinnier. She seems more tired than when she left.

Keeping the façade that Aoko saw years ago, Kaito asks questions accordingly to help her get by with her sudden memory loss. She answers them vaguely. "Maybes" and "I don't knows" fill the air with her carefree voice. It's like their seventeen again. Bored of the questions that Kaito asks, Aoko places her hand on top of his. For a moment, he thinks of pulling away from her touch. For a moment, he feels that he doesn't have the right to be able to ever feel her soft feel ever again. But the smoothness of her hand is too invigorated to move away from. He leans closer to her, just as he had done years ago. She smiles that smile. "Let's just see where it takes us." She laughs the laugh that Kaito wants to hear. He nods trying to be casual and slips his arm over her.

Just a few days ago Aoko would've began crying and tearing her way away from Kaito if she had only seen him in the crowded streets. Now, at this very moment in time, he has Aoko snuggled up against him. He can feel her heartbeat and she can feel his. She even kisses him. Full on the lips, she startles him. It takes him a second to comprehend because he hasn't been able to feel another girls lip since she left. He'd forgotten the rush it was to be in love. "Is something bothering you?" Aoko whispers. She's the first to pull away, looking deep into his eyes. He knows that she knows that she can always see through his poker face. "I'm really glad you're okay," he drifts from the question. She's known him too long to know when he's lying. He'd been in the position more than just this one time.

"Kaito," Aoko asks quietly, almost ashamed. "What kind of a person was I since you've last seen me?" Kaito bites his lip. The last time Kaito saw Aoko… "The doctors told me that I've had a metal relapse. Or something like that. Apparently I've been under heavy stress for the past few years and you know I'm the worst at coping with stress. When I was sent to the hospital, the doctors said that I had a concussion." She smiled sheepishly. The words sting him. "I haven't spoken a word to you since the last time you left." "Oh."

He pulls her even closer to him. He hugs her tight. "Don't worry. I'll be here, Aoko. You're not going to leave me anymore." He says suddenly optimistic. Aoko nods and lays her head on his shoulder. They watch Tokyo's artificial candy-colored city from the top of a building.

Kaito smiles to himself with Aoko under his arm. He was going to keep it like this. This was his second chance to redeem Aoko back to him. Except this wasn't his second. This was closer to his fourth or fifth time; the wasted opportunities before then, thrown far from both of their memories. Kaito thanks the stars for the opportunity it had granted him to be with Aoko again.

_How'd you like it? I'll try to update frequently but I don't know what that'll be. I'm going to aim for once a week as my bare minimum. I already have some ideas and possibly plot twists to put into this story. Please continue reading and reviews are always loved!_


	2. Differences

_The long awaited chapter. I'm so sorry I haven't uploaded anything lately. Especially this story. I don't really like how this chapter went but I felt like it was just some more character development/identification that was needed to continue the story. So here it is. _

_Oh and Kaito is Kuroba Kaito. Kaitou means thief in Japanese. Like in Kaitou Kid. Okay bye._

There was a breath of silence as she walked into his flat. She observed it silently, holding her breath, her comments. She took off her favorite pale blue converse and made her way into the apartment. It was spacious for an apartment in Tokyo. Kaito watched her, unable to contain his cheeky grin. "Kaito," Aoko said giggling. She smiled at the apartment's setup. Within the large living room with large living room windows that led to a balcony, there was modern looking furnishing scattered all around the room. Aoko was laughing now. "Kaito, you're interior decorating skills aren't the best." Kaito felt a rush of heat to his cheeks.

It was true. The modern looking furnishing was undeniably scattered all around the room. "Have you ever cleaned it since you lived here?" Aoko teased. Kaito looked, faking annoyance. "To my defense, it's only been about a month since I've moved here." Aoko ignores his words, throwing a dirty shirt from on top of the couch to Kaito. "Help me clean," she demands and Kaito feels a rush of unknown emotion. The kind only Aoko can give him. "You never cleaned your room during high school, did you?" Aoko remembered. The task that would usually take all day for him to complete alone (thus the reason for not cleaning) had taken him and Aoko only an hour. The magic that Aoko possess can perform miracles like that.

Kaito: Let me help you unpack your things.

Aoko: I don't have anything to unpack.

Kaito: Nothing?

Aoko: No. I mean I suppose we could go back to my flat that I used to live in to get some of my stuff that I kept.

Kaito: We can go do that after lunch.

Aoko: Kaito?

Kaito: Yeah?

Aoko: Do you know why I left you all those years ago?

Kaito: It was complicated… We wanted different things.

Aoko: Like?

Kaito: We wanted to be different things. You wanted to join the police squad and I wanted to continue my career as a magician. One way or another it just didn't work out. Don't worry about.

Aoko: How did it get so bad that I didn't want to see you again? What kind of a horrible person was I to just walk out on you like that?

Kaito: Don't worry about it. I love the Aoko you are right now and that's all that matters. Don't try to relieve the you that left me. We both saw how that ended up.

Aoko: I ended up back in your arms.

Kaito: You also left quite the mark on me right before you left. It doesn't matter. I'm just glad you're back.

Aoko and Kaito ate their lunch noisily, the uncomfortable conversation forgotten in the hamper brimming with dirty clothes and the vacuum cleaner filled with dirt. It was like Aoko was nineteen again. She laughed loudly, watching Kaito's reaction to the side dish she had made, a mix of pickled vegetables with small fish sprinkled on top. Although Aoko still had the mindset of a nineteen year old, Kaito had definitely matured along with his age, acting as the mature twenty-three year old that he was. He glared at the fish that had littered the perfectly good vegetables. No longer did Kaito yell and cower at the dead sea-swimmer, he had grown up. With an icy voice, he pushed the small dish with the fish towards Aoko. "I'm full. You can have this."

She looked at Kaito. He had grown much more mature. Not just his personality but everything. His aura gave off a more stable vibe. He seemed even more capable of keeping his poker face look confident. Kaito had broader shoulders, a sturdier build. This wasn't the Kaito she fell in love with in high school but this was Kaito nether less. His reactions had even matured, she realized, as she ate the fish that Kaito refused to. Less spontaneous, more calculated. The Kaito that made petty jokes and flipped girl's skirts had ceased to exist in this reality. It scared Aoko a little. While she still maintained the maturity level as a girl straight out of high school (not that she had a memorable chance to work on it), Kaito had grew up into a responsible adult.

Aoko looked through her small apartment. It wasn't shabby in any way; it was just small, especially compared to Kaito's. She studied it. She tried to take it all in. From the placement of the furniture to details of the painting of Tokyo at night, she tried to memorize everything there was in the small space. It was weird. She couldn't ever remember ever being in this apartment but the way the furniture are placed, the way the décor are placed and exist, it seems familiar. The only thing she found out of place was a pile of boxes, unevenly pushed into a corner. She walked over to them and opened them. Somehow she couldn't help but let out a little laugh. Posters of her years of hate. On colorful posters, with neat lettering and cute drawings, the posters had been visual to add upon her disgust of the Phantom Thief back in her high school years. She had kept these. On the back of one of the numerous posters though, she noticed in hasty handwriting, the words 'Kaito Kid'. What did that mean? Kaito was the infamous Kaitou Kid? Her face turned pale. "Everything all right?" Kaito asked behind her. She flinched and quickly flipped the poster over and stuffed it into a box. "Nothing. Oh but Kaito, what's up with Kid? Is he still stealing gems?" Kaito shrugged. "Every now and then. He seems to steal a bunch and then take a break and then go back to stealing though."

She looked through other boxes and found a small locket. "Dad gave this to me after mom died," she said quietly and slipped it on her neck with Kaito's help. He said nothing. Aoko packs a suitcase and stuffs it with only clothes. "I got everything," she said finally. "Is that everything you want to take?" Kaito asked. Aoko nods. "I want to be the person I am right now. I mean, if I could at least find out more it'll be great but I want this life. Wait! What about my diary?" she suddenly dropped her suitcase and begins searching her bedroom. Kaito doesn't help her. He takes a seat on her couch. "If I can only find my diary, maybe I could figure out what happened." He sighs but somehow he can't help but leave a sliver of a smile from showing on his lips. Aoko was always so predictable. He loved her.

"Come on Aoko," he said to her finally, wrapping his arms around her. "You can look for it another." She nods. "Okay," she breathes. She felt left behind. It wasn't fair. Kaito got to remember her before she had left him. He got to grow up and have a life after high school up until now. He had matured. He grew up. Kaito, who always immature, who always made jokes and flipped her skirt. He wasn't there anymore. He had gotten so much more older while Aoko had retained her ignorant youth. The Kaito that Aoko fell in love with was still stuck in high school. She felt like crying.

"It's okay," he whispers into her ear. It's okay. It's okay. He held her tighter. She makes a sobbing noise. "Let's go home, Aoko," he said gently. It didn't matter how old Kaito was, the eighteen year old boy that Aoko fell in love with was still there.

_Was it okay? Please review.I'm working on getting the next chapter out. Prepare for more angst and drama in the next one. This one kind of turned into a filler almost. Sorry but I promise that it's kind of important_


	3. Pain Under the Bed

_So I was thinking of how this story is going to end and I don't know if most of you, readers would particularly be happy with the ending. It's not exactly happy ending. Nowhere near so. I just thought you guys should know that so you know what you're getting yourself into. _

_I'll try to write more often, I promise. It's just hard because I have to make good grades in school and that is too much effort than it's worth. Okay. Read. Enjoy. Review?_

Aoko tiredly swished her wine around the large, circular glass. She didn't like the taste. It was strong and bitter. Really, she just wanted a soda or even juice. Maybe she could pour out the wine and fill it with grape juice and Kaito won't notice. But she doubts that there would be any grape juice in the fridge. So she continues to take sips of the alcoholic drink and try to keep as much of a straight face as she could create. Kaito's attempts of calming Aoko down after her trip to her apartment building haven't been much of a success so far.

They watch a movie together, and it's an interesting movie, really. Kaito's personal favorite, Catch Me If You Can. An American one. It's just Aoko has too much on her mind to try to pay attention. She chugs the last few drinks down and shivers at the taste. It stains her tongue with the extreme bitterness. She drifts in and out of woozy consciousness.

It took a moment. She woke up on the couch. A comforter was being pulled onto her. The credits were rolling on the screen. She had fallen asleep. Kaito took a sigh and resituated himself on the couch. She closed her eyes with a ghost of a smile on her lips. She felt the warmth of his sturdy physique. She feels his steady breathing but still feels slightly intoxicated from the wine she had forced herself to drink. "I'm sorry Aoko," she thinks he hears him say lowly but she's not sure.

Like magic, she falls asleep after that without another conscious breath or memory of the occurrence that night. When she wakes up, she wakes up in her bed. She steps onto cold wooden flooring and slips on a shirt she had thrown on the floor the day before. Aoko lands flat on her back and lets out a slight hiss. She stays lying on the floor for a moment longer. She peers under the bed and notices the locket from the day before. "I must've dropped it," she whispers as she crawls under the bed to pick it up.

She crawls on her forearms to reach it and hits her head just as she feels the metallic coolness of the locket. The young lady sighs tiredly. She's getting hurt all over the place this morning. It hasn't been a full ten minutes since she's been awake. Still under the bed, with the locket from her childhood, securely in her palm she lays on her back, looking up to the frames of the bed. She flinches, looking at the frames of the bed. On the wooden frames, there are hundreds of small scratches. Almost like the scary movie she saw long ago with Kaito. Knowing, it was called. With hundreds of small words and numbers written, it was surreal. But this was different. This was real. This was really happening to her. And what Aoko, under the bed, shaking vigorously, found the scariest was that the words were in her own handwriting. She let out a small shriek, muffled by her hand.

The neat, bubbly characters that littered the underside of the bed were undeniably in her handwriting. But it couldn't be. Until a few days ago, she'd never stepped foot into this house. Onto this bed. Why? According to Kaito she left soon after high school had ended. This wasn't the bed that Kaito owned back in their teenage days. She had a piercing headache. God, it hurt. She couldn't think clearly. Even the scribbles seemed blurry. She couldn't comprehend a single character that was written. But she had to; she had to see what she had written in such a secret place. Her head felt heavy. It hurt so badly. "Don't forget!" she focused on. "Don't forget!" It repeated many times, in different places of the bed, in different thickness and discoloration of wood. These were time gaps between all these groups of writing. Aoko could tell that much. She tried to make sense of the other characters and words that it appeared she had written long ago, in a time she couldn't remember.

Aoko crawled out from under the bed. Her head hurt too much. She fell onto the top of the bed, slipped underneath the covers and felt a tight pain. It was different from her immobilizing headache. This one was different. Her chest was compacted, she couldn't breathe right. She was crying.

She was crying and she didn't know why. More than anything, she wanted to know. She just wanted to know what was happening in the complex maze of secrets that was placed in front of her and forgotten. Everything seemed to pain her for a moment.

_I'm so sorry that it's so incredibly short. I haven't had the time to write anything. Hopefully, I'll have time this weekend. This is getting really confusing, but I'm going to tie it all up by the time it ends. Please keep reading and leave a review!_


	4. Home Alone

_Sorry darlings, the wifi in the house was down for a week and it's still not fixed. McDonald's free wifi is the reason for my existence. Anyway, read and enjoy. Maybe give me a review, too. I always appreciate reviews!_

She fell asleep after crawling into her bed, crying, trying to ease the throbbing headache that rested in her head. Aoko didn't awaken when Kaito knocked on her door. He peered into her room and saw her. She was beautiful. With a peaceful face, Aoko slept. He looked at her kindly but left the room with the face of deep regret. What is he going to do with her?

When Aoko awoke, she first had forgotten about what she had found under the bed. Like a dream, she walked around the apartment, looking for Kaito. Tiredly, she called out his name around the house. Finally, she decided to have breakfast without him. She poured herself a bowl of cereal and looked at the clock. The girl, who always woke up sharply in the early hours of daylight, had seen the clock to be after one in the afternoon. She sighed heavily. Her body was stiff.

When she went to get the milk for her cereal, she noticed a note on the fridge. "Gone out to the studio. I'll be back by 5. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone." It read. 'The Studio?' she thought for a moment. Then she remembered, back in their high school years. Whenever counselors and teachers asked the two of them what they wanted to do with their lives, while Aoko uncertainly answered that she wanted to be a police officer like her father, Kaito, almost boisterously, answered to be a magician like his own father. He must've become the person he wanted. She couldn't keep a smile off her lips. Yet at the same time, she felt envious. What had she accomplished after high school? She couldn't name a single thing, good or bad, she had done in the last few years.

Even though she had just woken up, she felt a wave of exhaustion over take her. The house seemed too large, too empty to be left alone. Only when she went back to her room though did she remember what she had found under the bed. Just remembering it, not completely able to fathom the scribbles that were hidden from her land everyone else.

With tears in the eyes of the young girl, she crept back to see the belly of the bed. Kaito wouldn't be back in another handful of hours, leaving her to read what she had found the night before. Like she had noted, the writings were in her handwriting. Unmistakably so. Her careful, neat, incomparable handwriting were scratched into the wooden support of the bed.

She'd never been to this house before. She'd never laid in this bed until a coupe nights ago. It hurt, a little. She couldn't make any sense of this. Why?

Why?

It was her hand writing. The groups of words and phrases were scattered in separate cliques. This, she supposed, was different times or activities that she had written about. Like a diary. She wanted to find her diary again, be able to read everything about what she had done before.

A small circle of words fell into her vision. "Father is dead." "Mother's locket." "Don't forget." "Please don't forget again." "Kaito."

Everywhere. Everywhere there were words of Kaito scattered around. But none of it made sense. She couldn't make heads or tails of barely any of the words there. She had to refrain herself from crying. She had to hold it back. What good would it be to cry right now? It stung.

"Kid." There were words of the infamous thief everywhere too.

She desperately felt the indentions of the wood, frustration overwhelming her as she tried to decode the cryptic meaning. "Kaito was Kid." She knew that was written across multiple times. Even in her own apartment she had spent so much time in had she seen "Kaito Kid." She just chose to ignore it.

Somewhere under this stretched fabric of a sky, there was Kuroba Kaito. And then there was Kid. There was herself and there was the girl she had forgotten all about. It seemed so necessary to know. So desperately mandatory for her to remember what she had done, what she had felt before.

She tried for another circle of words. Friend's names. Most she recognized from her senior year in high school. "Akako" "Hakuba" "Keiko" God, how was it that she never once thought of Keiko, or any of her other friends. She had a sudden wave of desire to meet them. Maybe Kaito would still have means of contacting them. Maybe they could all meet up again and have fun just like they have since high school.

She crawled out of the bed and tried to find her phone. Keiko, her best friend, had to be on her contact list, no matter how many years had passed. But her name was missing. It surprised her. But she remembered her number by heart. Cautiously she pushed the sequence of numbers that she had done so countless times that she could remember.

She hesitated to push call. Why wasn't she on her contact list? In fact, why wasn't Hakuba or Akako or any other of her friends on her list? She couldn't remember any of the people on her list. Other than Kaito, she didn't recognize any of them. Her hand slipped. She was calling Keiko.

What if she changed her number? Her phone was shaking as she strained herself to hear every sound she could possibly hear leak out. Finally a cool click answered. "Hey it's Hato Keiko a, leave a message after the tone!" There was a beep and Aoko didn't answer. She didn't try to end her call. She didn't say a single word. Keiko's last name wasn't Hato. In high school, she was Momoi Keiko. Did she get married? How could Aoko, not remember her best friend's marriage. How could she not know who Mr. Hato was? Her chest tightened.

"Keiko?" she finally whispered. "It's me, Aoko. Do you remember me? It's been a while, I think. Anyway, I'd really like to talk to you sometime, so whenever you have a chance, let's meet somewhere and catch up. Bye." Her voice was quiet. She was shy all of a sudden, she was almost glad to push end call on her phone. The synchronization she had between her and her best friend (in every way except for when it came to the topic of Kaitou Kid) was exact. Now it seemed that even without talking to her, or even seeing her face in a straight number of years, it seemed to have grown into an ocean. Aoko's strength was never in swimming.

She sighed. Aoko threw herself onto her bed. She felt calmer somehow. Still she was tired, no matter how much sleep she had, it never seemed to be enough lately. Half-asleep, she heard the door open and the footsteps of steady feet. It was Kaito. He came home. She sat up on her bed and was going to welcome him home when her phone rang. She flinched.

It was her best friend. Hato Keiko. Gingerly, she held the phone in the palm of her hand. She let the phone serenade her a few more seconds with Daigo's Overwrite before answering. She took a breath before holding it up to her face.

"Hello, Aoko?" it was Keiko. Her voice didn't change but the way she carried her words seemed more refined and adult-like. Suddenly, she didn't have a clue on what to say. After years of laughing at American movies and gossiping about the latest bands and dressing up for group dates seemed like a waste. She had trouble uttering a single hello to the girl she spent most of her life smiling with. "Hey, Keiko…" she said unsure of herself.

Keiko: _Aoko_

Aoko: _Keiko_

Keiko: _How are you?_

Aoko: _Fine, and you?_

Keiko: _I've been good._

A strained silence draped between them. Aoko could feel the tension between themselves and the lack of words they had to offer for years that was a hole between them. Aoko was about to continue on with another filler comment, perhaps about the weather, perhaps about politics, anything to get words shared between themselves again. But Keiko had beaten her to it.

Keiko_: Aoko! Where have you been? I've been trying to get in contact of you since graduation! Do you know how long it's been since I've seen you? It's been like five years! Where were you?_

Aoko: … I don't know.

Keiko: _What do you mean? I've tried and tried to see you. So much has happened and I haven't been able to do so much as to send a post card. I've gotten married Aoko! And you weren't the maid of honor because you've disappeared! Do you understand? The dreams that we've always had since we were kids, mine was shattered when you fell off the face of the earth! _

Keiko was close to crying now. Her voice was shaking with emotion. Aoko could sense the heavy feelings Keiko had burdened herself with through the hollowness of the phone.

Aoko: _I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Keiko. But I don't remember what's happened since graduation. I can't remember anything at all._

Keiko: _What do you mean?_

Aoko: _I think I lost my memory after high school. I can't seem to remember much of anything. I'm so sorry Keiko. I wish I was there. I know you looked beautiful. I wish I could've seen you._

Keiko: _What are you talking about, Aoko? Wasn't Kaito-"_

The room to Aoko's bedroom door flung open. There, was Kaito, standing tall and handsome, with a warm smile on his face. "I'm back," he said plainly. "I hope you weren't bored." He came up to Aoko and gave her a gentle hug. "Kaito," Aoko stuttered. "What are you doing?" he asked, innocently. "Nothing," Aoko replied and ended the call with Keiko, who was still talking. She would get back to her later.

"I missed you," she said truthfully. She wrapped her arms around him. She loved him. She knew that much for certain. But the subtle hints that she couldn't fathom were beginning to point a negative arrow at Kaito.


	5. Dad

_All right new chapter. I'm going to be doing a home stay in France for about a month soon and I don't know if I'll be able to write much then. So if it seems that I just gave up on this story don't worry, I'm merely taking a short hiatus before getting back to writing. I'm hoping to get another chapter or two done before then…_

Aoko knew for a fact that there was something to know about Kaito. Something he wasn't telling her. Something he didn't want her to know. To be blunt, she was almost scared of the something. It was prevalent in the scattered clues that were hidden in only places she would bother to pay a second glance to. She was determined to know what.

Her locket hung around her neck, slightly wiggling as she took each step. The picture of her when she was young was in there. A picture with her and her father and her mother. Without looking inside, she could remember what was in there. It was comforting to know that she had something she could recall. A single memory that hasn't been scathed by the toll of stress had still remained a sliver of hopefulness in her forgotten life. She hadn't opened the locket to prove herself that.

After Keiko's call, she never had a chance to finish their conversation. Aoko left Keiko's questions blank. In the end, she thought of calling someone less emotional that she could confide in like Hakuba-kun of Akako-chan. What about her dad? Should she call him?

She had completely forgotten about him. From finding means of communication to tell him she's all right to asking him what he can tell her during her blank period. Aoko called her dad right after that. She felt embarrassed that she completely forgotten about her own father, who had taken care of her consecutively for eighteen years.

She dialed up his phone number and waited for him to answer. She waited. It led to a voicemail. She sighed. Aoko didn't bother to leave a voicemail. She wanted to talk to him now. She called again, hoping that perhaps he would answer the second time. A deep voice answered the line.

"Hello?" he said. "Dad!" Aoko answered. "I'm so sorry I forgot to call. I bet you were worried sick about me. I'm sorry, but I'm at Kaito's house right now. He's taking really good care of me so don't worry about that. I'll come over as soon as you're done with work. Maybe tonight? I have a lot I want to talk about with you," Aoko said quickly, trying to squeeze in the words in as short of time as possible. She didn't want to delay hearing her dad's welcomed voice.

"Sorry darlin' you have the wrong number," he said. Her heart froze for a moment but composed herself quickly enough. She apologized and proceeded to hang up. Aoko redialed her dad's number and the same man, who was not her father, replied in an apologetic voice, frankly feeling bad for the girl who couldn't get in contact with the first man she learned to love.

Aoko, slowly, moved into the kitchen, where Kaito was making them dinner. He greeted her with a smile and a taste of the pasta he was cooking for the two of them. Perhaps at a different time, in a different lifetime, she would have taken the time to appreciate that it was Kaito making them food. Maybe, Aoko would've commented on the apron that he wore that bore a rabbit coming out of a hat and onto a frying pan, with the caption "Caution: Magician Cooking." He looked like the ideal man, but Aoko couldn't indulge in the luxury of appreciating Kaito.

"Do you know where Dad is?" Aoko asked plainly. Kaito burned himself, stirring the pasta around in the pot. He hissed. Then, he set the wooden spoon down and wrapped himself around Aoko. Tightly, he tried to comfort Aoko. Tears fell. She could feel them sliding down her cheeks. This made her cry harder. Somehow, she knew why he was hugging her, why she was crying. It hurt. She was an orphan.

"What happened?" she finally asked. Kaito shook his head. "I didn't really understand but something to do with overworking himself. A heart attack, I think it was. I was invited to the funeral. I heard that there was quite a few officers had went." Aoko dug herself deeper into the warmth of Kaito's apron. She thought she could disappear into the comfort of Kaito and stop feeling the loneliness. Kaito was there for her though. "Come on Aoko, let's eat dinner first. We could visit his grave tonight. You need something to eat though."

When Kaito went back to the pasta, it was too overcooked to be enjoyable and they ordered pizza to eat instead. To Aoko it didn't matter. It didn't have a taste either way and seemed to stick to the roof of her mouth. She loved pizza but she also loved her dad.

After a dinner of a slim sliver of pizza, Aoko pushed Kaito to leave to visit her dad's grave. Kaito didn't resist and left the moment she asked her to. The car ride was a mere thirty minutes. The whole ride, Aoko played with the locket she was given. The importance of it had doubled in a matter of seconds.

Right next to her mother, an additional grave, engraved: Ginzo Nakamori, protruded from the grass. Aoko didn't cry. Instead, she stared at it. Like it was a mirage, she didn't dare to blink. If she looked at it hard enough, maybe she could see that it was only a cruel joke Kaito played on her. The grave could be a prop. One made of Styrofoam. Her dad could've gotten a new phone. But the stone grave remained stone and Aoko recalled how bad her dad was with technology. Written in stone, her father was dead. This, she would remember for the rest of her life.

Her father, after losing his wife, his daughter, his entire family, had tried to cope in the work he detested. He died without love. Aoko felt the weight of her guilt bury her next to her parents. She felt a wave of hatred -toward herself. She couldn't forgive herself. Why? What kind of a person was she? She had broken the hearts of her father, her boyfriend, and her best friend before leaving them without a trace of where she was.

Kaito stood behind her, focusing his eyes on the two graves. Particularly the mother's. He looked at it intently. He let Aoko let everything she had to release off her chest, do so. He didn't say a single word to calm her down. She cursed and cried. Kaito didn't speak. He didn't try to comfort her with words because he knew her. He knew her too well to know she had to yell and scream and cry before she could calm down. She had to before she could recover. That was the way she always was. So Kaito remained only watching, with a regretful look on his face. Aoko cursed. Kaito wanted to curse.

After she was done yelling, she sat on the dying grass, next to her parents. Burying her head into her knees, she thought of a prayer. She wanted to talk to her parents, at least one last time. She stayed in that position for over half an hour. It was like Aoko could block out reality and imagine her parents next to her if she could concentrate hard enough. Maybe she could die along with them if she really tried.

She could feel her father's strong, sturdy arms around her. She could just be imagining it, but it felt real to her. She could smell the familiar scent she always found comfort in. "I'm so sorry, Dad," she sobbed into her shivering knees. "Let's go home Aoko," it was Kaito. She opened her eyes. It wasn't her dad. She apologized to him though she had nothing to apologize for. "It should be me apologizing," he said. "I brought you here."

The ride home was silent.

Aoko kept her thoughts to herself and Kaito didn't pry. He pretended to be heavily occupied by the road. Aoko was determined to find a way to regain her memories. Her father served almost like a martyr, adding fuel to the flame that she would, without fail, release into a roaring fire. She would be ignorant to her own life no longer.

Her thin fingers played with her locket. Deep in incomprehensible thoughts, she twirled the locket around the silver chain. Aoko felt a slight need to open it and see the picture that was in it. It was the picture of her and her parents. She loved that picture. Everything about the picture was beautiful to her. She loved the imperfections of her messy hair and her dad's un-ironed shirt. Her mother was flawlessly beautiful. She always was. But she hesitated to open it. She almost didn't want to see her parents happily smiling at her.

She knew what was inside the locket. She remembered. She was able to remember something. If that locket was the only thing she could rely on, she would do so without complaining. At least she had something to depend upon. Without having to look inside, she knew what was inside. Aoko needed something to prove that her memories weren't completely hopeless. So she decided on leaving it closed.

Kaito placed one of his hands on hers. His eyes were on the road but he gave her a gentle squeeze. She cried. They were almost home. Kaito had parked the car and they sat together in a bit of silence. In a swift, spontaneous movement, Kaito had clasped his lips onto Aoko's. It was silent and awkward. Aoko closed her eyes as she leaned in to deepen the kiss. Vaguely, she remembers kissing him before. But this was much more deeper than she can ever remember receiving. Tears had still dribbled down her cheeks, in big splatters. The kiss was salty.

They kissed. At the same time between the heightened emotions, there was terrible guilt mixed in with the two. She cried while she kissed him, and when she pulls away to take a breath, she thinks she sees Kaito with wet cheeks as well. Before she can determine whether or not it was from her own tears, Kaito pulls her back in and she forgets to care about anything else.

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